Grand old trees line the streets, casting a cool shadow over the aging cobble stones. An old man sweeps the foot path free of fallen leaves. There texture along with the classic old cars create a fusion of colours attractive to the eyes. For how many years has this old man been sweeping this street.

This beautiful quaint town overlooks Rio De Plata in which the Portuguese utilised to smuggle goods into Buenos Aires during the last 1600´s.

My brain must be overloaded. All the languages are reeking havoc with my brain. 1 minute I´m speaking English, the next Spanish and Portuguese. I have even mistakenly answered in Japanese a few times. Japanese.. like thats useful in Latin America.

I see allot of people carry around furnaces, a carved wooden cup and a pipe. It must be fantastic, all the cool kids are doing it. I will try this mysterious vessel in time and conclude on its popularity.

The sun sets over the horizon, the light bouncing off the ferry's wake. I can help but stear at the swell created by the boats props. You could almost surf that... you could defiantly wake board it.

A purple haze sets in over the sea. Beautiful, Bonita, Lindo..I´m on a boat to Buenos Aires to study Espagnol, Hasta luego Uruguay (Until Later).